An aircraft climbs far beyond my perch,
Silver belly winking across the sky,
Window spotters scanning for vermin.
Can they not eye these two hundred farers
Milling about, sunbathing, trolling sand,
Among them the brave swimming into no man’s land?
I imagine first-class suits inside, infants,
Tourists ordering cocktails for three, a
Sardined-man noxious from waft of the latrine.
With flaming fowl fizzling in distant sky
I squint to wipe away the sweat of my
Eyes, only to spot little oddities,
But these objects seem rather keen on me,
Darting as I focus sight; those pesky
Vision floaters, a secret of the light.